


by the time I'm dreaming

by hapakitsune



Series: by the time I'm dreaming [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-13
Updated: 2010-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eva Lysacek has been in competition with golden girl Janie Weir for most of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by the time I'm dreaming

Eva Lysacek is about ninety percent sure that Janie Weir is trying to flirt with her. Which, for maybe anyone else on the planet, would be a compliment, because Janie Weir is objectively very beautiful. She’s thin and elegant, with curly dark hair and grey-green eyes that she usually lines with smoky black eyeliner, and she has incredible fashion sense. Everything she wears is carefully chosen to show off her toned body.

Except that Eva absolutely hates Janie with a fiery, deathly passion.

Janie is the fucking _darling_ of the figure skating community. It’s so charming, everyone says. She taught herself to skate after seeing Oksana Baiul win the Olympics! She was such a natural! She landed her first double axel a week into her formal training! It had taken Eva _two years_ to do that.

And Janie is gregarious and a media favorite, because she’s willing to give sound bites and talk about how she creates her costumes. She’s working on a reality show about herself. She taught herself to speak Russian and French. She is just, like – _so_ infuriating.

Eva, on the other hand, is gangly and awkward and introverted. She prefers practicing to giving interviews and she stands a good five to six inches taller than most of the other girls. No one seems to care that she’s _good_ ; she’s just the odd one out. She can land the jumps and do the spins, but she lacks the grace and sophistication that Janie has.

Also, she’s pretty sure everyone thinks she’s a lesbian. Which, okay, Eva wouldn’t say no if a gorgeous woman showed up in her bed saying, “Take me now.” What’s annoying is that everyone _knows_ that Janie’s gay, but Eva is the one who gets called a dyke.

What’s sick and really hateful about the whole thing is that as much as Eva despises Janie, she is still absolutely in love with her.

It’s hard not to be. Janie is so vibrant and unique; she’s outspoken and confident and she inhabits her body with utter ease, displaying none of the self-consciousness of most girls their age. She skates beautifully and is intelligent as well. She is just what skating needed – someone young, beautiful, and outgoing, someone to reenergize interest in the sport and that’s exactly what she has done.

Eva can vividly remember the first time she met Janie; it had been shortly after their first junior Nationals, at the USFSA dinner. Eva had talked her coach and agent into allowing her to wear dress pants rather than a dress. Janie had shown up in a rich green dress that drew attention to her eyes, and she had made nice with everyone, smiling and polite. Eva had hated her instantly, hated her ease and the way she could talk to people without sounding like an idiot.

Janie had worn her hair shorter, then, and it had been a light brown rather than the rich, dark brown she dyes it now. She had been so thin and tiny, but she had been taller than most of them until Eva hit her own growth spurt and grown eight inches in two years.

It was once Janie was allowed to dress herself that she had really grown into her looks. She let her hair grow out and started wearing designer labels with the money she got from her sponsors. She wore slinky black dresses to USFSA and ISU banquets, flirted with everyone, and she was still considered charming and adorable rather than an embarrassment. Eva thinks, a little meanly, that if Janie had been born a boy, the USFSA wouldn’t be so enamored of her.

Eva reacted the way she could; she ignored Janie’s attempts to draw Eva into her circle, concentrating on her routines rather than going out with Janie and the other skaters. But as Janie grew older, it became harder and harder to ignore her.

Suddenly, she was beautiful, gracing the covers of magazines, appearing on Maxim’s Hot 100 at number sixty-eight when she was eighteen, moving all the way up to twenty-six by the time she was twenty. Everyone wanted a piece of Janie Weir. Even Eva. _Especially_ Eva.

Eva threw herself even further into practice, ignoring people who called her the ugly duckling of the skating world, or who joked that she should compete with the men because her routines were strenuous rather than elegant. She beat Janie out at insignificant competitions – once at Cup of China, once at Skate Canada – but Janie consistently bested her at Grand Prix, and Nationals, and Worlds. It was infuriating; Eva tried _so_ hard and she could never do as well as Janie. Janie seemed to have just waltzed into the sport and stolen everyone’s hearts – and medals.

Even when neither of them managed to place, Janie always beat her. At the Olympics, Janie had placed fourth, beating Eva by only one point. At Worlds, Stéphanie had held onto her title, with Janie coming in second and Eva coming in after Brianna Joubert.

And now Janie is trying to convince Eva to come out with her. She had cornered Eva the moment Eva had come out of her hotel room to get some ice, apparently not noticing that Eva was _not_ dressed to go out.

Eva pulls the brim of her hat down low over her face and crosses her arms. She’s wearing a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans chosen to hide how stupidly long her legs are; she’s tired from the show. Janie, on the other hand, is wearing a cream-colored dress that Eva recognizes as being from the Dolce&Gabbana Spring Collection, with silk stockings and a pair of expensive ankle boots, a fur coat thrown over her shoulders. “Eva,” Janie says, the smile evident in her voice. “Come on, come out with us. I promise it’ll be fun.” She pauses, then adds helpfully, “Tanner will be there.”

“We broke up,” Eva tells Janie grudgingly. “Two months ago.”

“Oh,” Janie says blankly. She shifts from foot to foot, then says, “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to maintain a relationship -”

“No, you _don’t_ ,” Eva grits out, startling both Janie and herself. “Look, you’re gorgeous, okay? You’re gorgeous and you’re talented and you’re friendly. You can have anyone you want. I am the opposite of all of those things. People call me a man behind my back. Don’t deny it,” she adds as Janie opens her mouth. “I _know_ , okay? I’m not totally oblivious.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Janie asks in an odd tone. Eva looks over and sees that Janie has tilted her head forward, her dark hair falling forward.

“You know you are,” Eva says resignedly.

Janie pauses, then holds out her slim, gloved hand. “Come with me,” she says softly. “Come out with me tonight. It’ll be fun. The tour is over, we deserve to have a little fun.”

Eva stares at the hand, then looks up at Janie. “Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll come.”

*****

  
Two drinks in, Eva is beginning to regret her decision to come along. Janie is dancing with Stéphanie Lambiel, the reigning Olympic silver medalist and total sexpot. The worst part is, Stéphanie seems to be totally unaware of how beautiful she is. She has smooth, smooth skin that tans really nicely (instead of turning orange-ish like Eva’s) and dark, liquid-y eyes. And also, Eva’s pretty sure that Stéphanie and Janie have hooked up at least twice before. They used to be so giggly and smiley together, having private jokes in French that only Brianna could understand. It makes Eva feel so _fucking_ jealous.

Eva sips at her (lite) beer morosely, staring at Janie and Stéphanie like the creepy stalker she is. Mark Davis sits down next to her, a little out of breath from dancing, and says sympathetically, “They are pretty to look at, aren’t they?” He has this weird raspy voice that sometimes makes him sound like he hasn’t passed puberty; his ice dancing partner, Charlotte, makes fun of him for it all the time.

“Yes,” Evgeniya Plushenko agrees from Mark’s other side, her accent bending her words. “But I think the boy that trains with you, Eva, what is his name?” She points and Eva looks to see Minoru Nagasu lurking against the wall, looking awkward in his own skin.

“Minoru?” she asks, and Evgeniya snaps her fingers.

“Yes, yes, him. I think he is adorable.” She gazes across the room thoughtfully. “I think I will seduce him.”

“He’s, like, sixteen,” Eva points out, which she thinks is a reasonable concern.

“Ah, yes, but his only other option is the lovely Adele, who is Janie’s protégé,” Evgeniya reminds Eva. “And you, you do not want Janie drawing more people into her web. Do not deny, I know it is true.”

Eva glares at Janie, who’s grinding up against Stéphanie now, her head thrown back. “You know what?” she tells Evgeniya. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Evgeniya smirks and says something in Russian to Ivan Slutskaya, who is on her other side, before stalking across the room to corner poor Minorou, who looks totally confused. Mark laughs and says, “God, Evgeniya really goes for it, doesn’t she?”

Eva takes a long, moody swig of her beer and says, “I’m going to the bathroom.” She sets her beer back on their table and leaves grumpily.

Once inside the bathroom, Eva takes off her Dodgers cap and sets it on the edge of the sink. She splashes her face with some water, and looks at herself in the mirror. She’s over-tanned from doing yoga outside, her eyes a little too close set, her nose too large for her face. She tugs at a lock of hair that got loose from her ponytail and makes a face. She hates her hair; it’s too thick and wavy, not all elegant curls like Janie’s.

The door opens and Janie comes in, carrying her purse. “Eva,” she says warmly. “You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” Eva says without looking at her. “I don’t _go_ out. I don’t know how to act.”

“What do you mean?” Janie asks, frowning. “Everyone knows how to have fun.”

“Not me,” Eva snaps, turning to glare at her. “I don’t have fun. I work and I practice. That’s all. I’m not – _gifted_ like you. I’m not pretty like you.”

Janie’s face softens. “Oh, Eva,” she says softly. “Don’t say that.” She takes a step forward and takes Eva’s chin in her hand, turning her head. Eva resists the urge to smack her hand away. “You know what you need?” she asks. “Some make-up.”

“What?” Eva demands, but Janie on a mission is a force that cannot be resisted. Eva finds herself being wrestled towards the mirror, Janie’s hands small but forceful on her shoulders.

“First thing, let’s take down the hair,” Janie says briskly and she pulls Eva’s hair out of the ponytail. Eva squawks and tries to get away, but Janie says, “Oh _no_ you don’t.”

Normally, Janie only comes up to Eva’s shoulder, but her boots have four-inch heels, so she is able to wrestle Eva into position. She fluffs Eva’s shoulder-length hair and tugs at Eva’s shirt. “You need to wear more flattering clothes,” she tells Eva, tucking Eva’s shirt into her jeans. Eva jumps as Janie’s hands dip beneath the waist of her jeans.

“What are you doing?” she demands, trying to turn her head. Janie grabs the back of her head and makes her stop moving.

“Making you look the best you can.” She steps back, then says, “Okay, you can turn around. Stay still and close your eyes.”

Eva obeys without thinking. She hears Janie move around the bathroom, and then Janie’s cool hands touch her skin, her cheeks, her eyes. Something cool glides across her eyelids, followed by an eye shadow brush. “You can open your eyes,” Janie murmurs; she’s close enough that Eva can smell her breath, the sweet smell of the cocktails Janie had been sipping earlier. Eva opens her eyes to find that Janie’s even closer than she had thought, her eyes huge, only the faintest hint of green around her blown pupils.

“Look up,” Janie orders, her voice abruptly gone soft and gentle, and Eva does. Janie carefully and gently lines her bottom lids, her free hand holding the side of Eva’s face to keep her still. Eva tries to not give away how much she wants to arch up into Janie’s slim body, to turn the tables and press Janie to the wall.

“Final touch,” Janie says, and she produces a bottle of lip-gloss. She moves as if to do it for Eva, then apparently thinks the better of it and hands it to her. Eva takes it and turns back to look at the mirror, sliding the applicator across her lips and trying not to think about how Janie’s lips have touched it too.

When she’s through, she looks in the mirror and sees – herself, not wholly different from before, but more relaxed looking, more feminine. Janie had brought out something in Eva’s eyes that Eva had never been able to accomplish with make-up, and somehow Eva’s hair doesn’t look as unruly as it usually does.

“There, you look lovely,” Janie says softly. “Now, come on, come dance.”

“I don’t know how,” Eva protests. “I’m only good at skating, I’m no good at dancing.”

“ _Everyone_ can dance, Eva,” Janie tells her firmly, and she tows Eva out of the room, grabbing her purse on the way. She deposits her purse with Mark and Charlotte before whirling out onto the dance floor. Eva is dragged into her wake, and she almost immediately collides with Tanner and Belle, who are showing off their dance moves.

Stéphanie beams brightly at Eva, and says, “You look very nice!” She isn’t being sarcastic at all, even though Eva is still wearing her ratty clothes. Stéphanie wraps her arms around Eva’s waist and moves against her, forcing Eva to go along with her.

Over Stéphanie’s shoulder, Eva can see that Janie has been accosted by Brianna Joubert. Janie doesn’t look particularly broken up about it, though; she smiles, her red lips bright against her pale skin, and slides against Brianna in a sensual, practiced motion.

Eva looks back at Stéphanie and lets Stéphanie move her around to her satisfaction. Eva knows she’s probably not the best dancing partner, but Stéphanie is graceful enough that she almost makes up for Eva’s clumsiness off the ice.

A few more songs past and then suddenly Eva is thrust into Janie’s arms, Stéphanie and Brianna whirling off together to flirt with the other people in the club.

“Whoa,” Janie says, finding her arms suddenly full of Eva. “My goodness, you’re tall.” Eva sighs and tries to pull away, but Janie tightens her arms around Eva. “No way,” she tells her. “I put all this effort into making you look good, I get to reap some of the benefits.”

Janie shifts her arms so that they are around Eva’s neck instead of around her waist, and insinuates one of her thighs between Eva’s legs. “Come on,” she whispers in Eva’s ear. “Just some harmless fun.” She pushes up a little, her thigh grinding up into Eva and Eva bites back a gasp.

Eva puts her arms around Janie’s waist, just above the swell of her ass. Janie purrs happily and rubs against Eva. She smells like apples and vodka, a little hint of baby powder. Eva, without thinking, lets her hands drop so that her fingertips touch the hem of Janie’s dress, inching it upward so that her hands touch the insides of Janie’s silk-covered upper thighs.

“Oh _god_ ,” Janie sighs, shivering pleasantly, and she moves her head so that she can kiss Eva, eager and sloppy and really, really sexy. Her mouth is soft and giving, opening easily to Eva, and she tastes sweet from her cocktails.

Eva can’t believe she’s doing this, making out with Janie Weir in some anonymous club in full view of half the people they know in skating, some of whom could report them to the ISU if they were feeling nasty. But Janie is eager and willing, and she keeps grinding into Eva and making soft little noises and it’s driving Eva _nuts_.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eva says into Janie’s ear and Janie agrees in a shuddery voice. Eva tries not to think about how _she_ is the one that has reduced Janie Weir to a puddle of incoherency.

They catch a cab back to the hotel amid the catcalls and whistles of their peers. It’s only as they’re halfway there that Eva realizes that she’s left her cap in the bathroom, but Janie’s halfway in her lap, her hand inching up Eva’s thigh, so she can’t quite bring herself to mention it.

They behave themselves in the lobby and elevator, knowing there are cameras around, but the moment they’re inside Janie’s hotel room, all bets are off. Eva presses Janie up against the wall, running her hands up Janie’s thighs, and bites at Janie’s neck. Janie groans and tangles her hands in Eva’s hair, arching into Eva’s hands. Eva half-wishes that Janie wasn’t wearing the boots, because then she could really use her height to make Janie go up on tiptoe, to make Janie wrap her legs around Eva’s waist.

Eva shoves up the hem of Janie’s dress until it’s bunched around her waist so she can tug down the top of Janie’s stockings. Eva kisses Janie’s mouth until Janie’s gasping into her, clawing at her back desperately. She breaks away as Eva pulls her stockings down, and gasps out, “Don’t rip the stockings –”

Eva cuts her off with a fierce kiss, her free hand roaming over Janie’s breasts. She wishes she could get beneath the dress, feel Janie’s warm skin against her hands. She gets the stockings down around Janie’s knees as the dress slides back down to cover Janie’s upper thighs again. She slips her right hand between Janie’s thighs, nudging aside the silk panties to slide her fingers through the hot slick wetness. She has never done this to someone else before, but she’s thought about it, alone in her hotel rooms at night and imagining how it would feel to make Janie beg for it.

It’s weird from this angle, but Eva gets the hang of it pretty quickly, pressing her thumb against Janie’s clit to make Janie gasp and cling to her shoulders. Janie’s booted heel bangs against the wall as Eva presses the tip of her finger inside.

Janie moans, pressing her face into Eva’s shoulder as Eva’s first finger slides inside. “More,” she begs, “please.”

“Bed,” Eva counters, because there’s no way she’ll be able to get the right angle standing up, and she wrestles Janie over to the bed, pulling the shoes and stockings off of her. Janie sits up and pulls the dress off over her head, throwing it to the side, where it falls in a white puddle of fabric. Eva pauses, staring; she’s seen Janie in various states of undress, but not like this. Her underwear is silky and cream-colored, edged with lace, almost the same color as her skin. Her dark, almost waist-length hair, falls over her shoulders and chest, striking against her pale skin.

Janie looks up through her lashes coyly. “Like what you see?” she asks playfully. She reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders, her hair the only preserver of her modesty.

Eva swallows hard and comes closer to straddle Janie’s lap. She pushes Janie’s hair back so she can cup Janie’s breasts in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the nipples. Janie gasps and presses into her hands, her head falling back. Eva presses Janie back against the comforter and kisses down Janie’s body before pulling the silky underwear down to press her fingers back inside Janie.

Janie arches up, one hand knotting in the fabric, the other grabbing onto Eva’s upper arm. Eva props herself up on one arm so she can watch Janie’s face as she slides her thumb up against Janie’s clit. Janie gasps, her eyes shuttering closed and Eva rasps, “ _Look_ at me.”

Janie’s eyes fly open and she is staring at Eva as she comes, choking out a soft, quiet sound, clenching around Eva’s fingers. She collapses back against the covers, her hair sticking to her face. The lipstick is almost completely chewed off of her lips, but she still looks completely beautiful – and totally out of Eva’s league.

Eva slides her fingers out and wipes them off on the bed before shifting off. She goes to leave, intending to take care of herself back in her own room, but Janie grabs the back of her shirt and reels her back in, moving surprisingly quickly for her post-orgasmic state.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” she says, pulling Eva down to the bed. She moves quickly to throw her bare legs over Eva’s lap and presses down on her shoulders. She smiles down at Eva, unselfconscious in her body. “I can’t let you go without returning the favor.” She yanks Eva’s shirt up, pressing her pale hands to Eva’s tanned stomach. Eva shudders; she’s so turned on she can feel the wetness in her underwear as she shifts on the bed.

“You don’t have to,” Eva tells her, because this is getting even stranger than it was before. Janie Weir is on top of her, pulling off her clothes. Eva wants it so badly she can taste it, but she _knows_ this is going to be a one-time thing. Janie isn’t interested in Eva, surely; how could she be, when she has Stéphanie or even Brianna to choose from?

While Eva is busy wondering how she will be able to go back to being alone after this, Janie gets Eva’s jeans off. She beams happily and ducks between Eva’s thighs. She presses the flat of her tongue to the fabric of Eva’s boy shorts. Eva breathes out hard through her nose, knotting her hands in the sheets. Janie peeks up sneakily, smiling, then hooks her fingers in Eva’s underwear and pulls it off of her before ducking back down.

At the first flick of Janie’s tongue, Eva gasps and buries her hands in Janie’s long hair, tugging gently. Janie moans and licks harder, pressing a finger in beside her tongue. Janie knows what she’s doing, that much is obvious. And it’s equally obvious that she loves it. She laps eagerly at Eva’s clit and slides a second finger in to fuck her open. Eva groans and tries to push up, but Janie is holding her down with her free hand even as Eva tugs on Janie’s long hair. Janie is surprisingly strong, and Eva isn’t able to push into Janie’s mouth. It’s kind of hot.

Eva comes when Janie does this _thing_ with her tongue and fingers at the same time, and she shudders, accidentally yanking at Janie’s hair. But Janie goes with it, moving up to kiss Eva, her mouth and chin wet.

Janie strokes her hand along Eva’s jaw and says quietly, “You can stay here tonight, if you want.” Her other hand slides up the side of Eva’s ribs, soothingly. Despite herself, Eva can feel herself drifting off. Janie works the sheets out from underneath them and covers them up, smoothing the fabric carefully over Eva’s body.

“All right,” Eva says grudgingly. “I’ll stay.”

Janie smiles, bright and so sincere that it makes Eva’s chest hurt a little. “Thank you.” She rolls off of Eva, but curls up into her side, head pillowed against Eva’s shoulder, snuggling under the covers. She falls asleep seemingly almost instantly, and Eva is left staring at the ceiling in confusion until she, too, falls asleep.

*****

  
Eva wakes up around her usual time, long before the sun has even started thinking about rising. The only illumination comes from the clock on the bedside table, which tells her it’s four forty-five in the morning. She carefully extricates herself from Janie’s arms and climbs out of bed, trying not to wake Janie. She pulls on her clothes and fixes herself in the bathroom, trying to look less like she had sex with Janie Weir the night before. There are traces of Janie’s lipstick across her face and she scrubs at her skin with the hem of her shirt until it’s faint enough to be mistaken for a normal flush.

She heads back to her room, takes a long, hot shower, and definitely does not think about Janie at all, even as she slides her fingers inside herself and gets off, her face pressed to the cool tiles of the shower.

Eva leaves a few hours later, having paid out the ass to get an earlier flight. She’s fully willing to admit that she’s a coward. If she had stayed, it’s likely she would have run into Janie. As it is now, she probably won’t see Janie for months, probably not until Nationals unless they run into each other during the Grand Prix events.

She has a week off before she starts training again and she takes the time to go to the beach a lot, sitting out in the sun and playing some volleyball with friends. She doesn’t tell anyone about Janie; Eva toes the line with the ISU as much as she can. Janie can get away with saying outrageous things because she’s their favorite. If Eva did _half_ the things that Janie did, she could count on her scores dropping significantly.

The Monday practice starts up again, she arrives early to the rink to get more stretching in and maybe get the ice to herself for a while. She’s stretching when Minoru arrives, chipper as always. He drops his duffel bag to the floor and sits on the bench next to her.

“So is it true?” he asks eagerly, eyes wide. Eva looks up, confused. “Is it true you hooked up with Janie Weir?”

Eva tries not to look guilty, but she must fail miserably because Minoru bounces up and down excitedly, looking both a little pervy and a little touched.

“You did!” he exclaims. “Stéphanie said she thought you two had, but no one knew for sure.”

Eva folds her legs in, her heart beating hard in her chest. “How many people have been discussing this?”

“We kept it quiet, don’t worry,” Minoru assures her. “We know the USFSA wouldn’t like this, we’re not _stupid_.”

Eva sighs and covers her face with her hands. “Did you see her after I left?” she asks through her fingers. “Was she upset?” Eva doesn’t really know what the protocol for hooking up is; she’s only had two relationships – one in high school, then the thing with Tanner – and she’s never actually hooked up before.

Minoru shrugs. “She didn’t act any differently,” he says before going to get changed into his skating clothes.

Eva doesn’t know Janie that well as a person; they’ve competed against each other since they were in their early teens, but Eva and Janie have been pitted against each other by their coaches, by the media, by the ISU – she doesn’t know how Janie managed to get past that. Maybe Janie just doesn’t care; after all, she has their favor on her side.

So Eva doesn’t know Janie all that well, but one of the things that Eva _does_ know is that when Janie’s upset, she acts as normal as possible. Eva remembers the Nationals where her skate broke and she fell into the wall, injuring herself so badly that she’d had to withdraw.

Of course, when she had come back the next year, she was hailed as this brave, proud heroine. But Eva remembers that Janie had acted like nothing was wrong, even as she limped through the locker room and into the waiting ambulance. She had smiled and laughed and pretended that she wasn’t hurt at all.

Eva sighs and puts her skates on before tying her hair up tightly so that it won’t smack her in the face while she skates. The ice has always been her safe haven, one of the only things she’s really good at, no matter what anyone says. Maybe if she skates enough, she’ll achieve the impossible and forget about Janie Weir.

*****

  
As per usual, Eva doesn’t see Janie until the Grand Prix. Stéphanie is there as well, of course, as is Brianna. They flank Janie during the women’s portion, when Janie is separated from her best gays from the Russian team.

Eva is hoping to avoid them all, but Stéphanie corners her and says, “You need to repair what you have done.” Her dark hair is pulled back for skating, but it doesn’t diminish her beauty in any way. She is terrifying in her passion, eyes huge and warning. She lays her hands on Eva’s shoulders (she has to reach up to do so) and says, “Janie, she will not say so, but she is very hurt.”

“Why?” demands Eva.

Stéphanie looks like she dearly wants to slap Eva across the back of the head, but she refrains. “ _Because_ ,” she says irritably, “she likes you very much, Eva.” Stéphanie rolls her eyes and mutters, “ _Mon dieu_ , who even knows why? But she does.”

Eva rubs her eyes after Stéphanie leaves and sighs. She looks up and catches Janie looking at her, her eyes huge. Janie looks away quickly, a flush rising in her cheeks and Eva has to push down the rising guilty bile, telling herself that Janie isn’t her responsibility. This is the last thing she wants to have to worry about before skating. It can wait, she thinks. It can wait until after the short.

*****

  
Janie completely loses it during the short program.

Eva has never seen Janie skate so poorly. It’s like she’s lost all concentration, all energy. Her spins are lazy, her jumps are weak, her footwork sloppy. She manages not to fall, but it’s a close thing on more than one occasion. When she’s through, she glides off the ice without even looking at the crowds, her hand pressed over her face.

“That was _awful_ ,” Patricia Chan says, eyes wide. “Have you ever seen Janie skate that badly?”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Eva tells her, watching as Janie gets her scores. They’re depressingly low and everyone seems shocked at how badly she did. Janie’s coach looks like she’s halfway between furious and sympathetic. When they’re done giving the scores, Janie stalks past, looking like she’s about to cry, and Eva wishes that she had time to stop her, talk to her. But it’s Eva’s turn to go, so she steps on the ice and skates to her place.

*****

  
Eva is second after the short program; Brianna’s in third, and Stéphanie is in first. They have to talk to the press after and the question on everyone’s lips is, “What happened to Janie?” Janie apparently ignored the press, which is uncharacteristic for her, so they go to the second best source: her competitors.

Stéphanie says, “I do not know, sometimes things get to us.” She very carefully doesn’t look at Eva as she adds, “Maybe she had a fight with a friend or got some bad news.”

Eva sighs and looks down at her hands. She gets it. And she feels guilty, too; as much as she wants to win, this isn’t how she wants to beat Janie. She doesn’t want to win because Janie’s an emotional wreck. Eva wants to win on her own merits. It’s not fair, she thinks, and she doesn’t think about how she had wanted to beat _herself_ up after seeing Janie cry.

She goes up to Janie’s hotel room after their finished and knocks until Janie finally yanks the door open with a, “ _What_?” She freezes when she sees Eva, her eyes going wide and almost frightened. She tries to close the door on Eva, but Eva uses her height and weight advantage to push the door back and squeeze inside.

“Get _out_ ,” Janie says, voice cracking. There are tearstains down her bare cheeks; for the first time since Eva has known her, Janie isn’t wearing any make-up. Janie crosses her arms defensively and juts her chin confrontationally. “Why are you here? To gloat over how well you did? To see if your plan worked? Well, congratulations. It did, you made me a total wreck. I know you hate me, but that was pretty low.”

“I don’t hate you,” Eva protests, and she’s surprised to realize that it’s true. She hasn’t hated Janie for a long time, if she’s honest with herself. “I swear I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?” Janie demands, eyes glittering with tears.

“I didn’t come here to gloat,” Eva insists. “I want to apologize. I – shouldn’t have left you like that. There was no plan, I swear.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Janie replies woodenly after a pause. She isn’t looking Eva in the face anymore, her hair falling lankly over her eyes. “Clearly I misunderstood the terms of our –relationship.”

“I was a jerk,” Eva corrects. “I was a jerk and I treated you like shit. Let me apologize for _that_ , because you didn’t deserve that from me.”

“Fine,” snaps Janie. “Apology accepted. Now will you please leave?”

“Janie, _please_ ,” Eva says, laying a hand on Janie’s shoulder carefully. When Janie doesn’t shrug her off, Eva moves her hand to rub at Janie’s neck. “I am so sorry, Janie, I really am. I didn’t know – I didn’t know it meant something.”

“Of _course_ it meant something,” Janie breathes tiredly. “How could you think otherwise?”

“I’m an idiot?” Eva suggests and Janie lets out an unwilling chuckle. “Really, Janie, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Thank you,” Janie whispers and Eva slides her hand across Janie’s jaw, her thumb stroking the delicate skin just in front of Janie’s ear. Janie shivers, but doesn’t look up.

“Janie,” Eva says and Janie looks up, her mouth open slightly. “I don’t hate you,” Eva tells her, and she kisses Janie, long and sweet, not trying anything more than a simple, closed-mouth kiss. Janie doesn’t respond at first, and then she unfolds her arms and fists her hands into Eva’s shirt. When they part, Janie lets out a shuddery breath and rests her forehead against the hollow of Eva’s throat.

“I didn’t know you liked me,” Eva tells her quietly, stroking her hands through Janie’s hair. “I thought it was just – a fling for you.”

“I don’t do flings,” Janie replies. “I’m pretty much a serial monogamist.”

“So you dated Stéphanie?” Eva asks, curious now. “That wasn’t just hook-ups?”

“We dated as much as two people who live on different continents can,” Janie says, “but I never thought it would last. I – I’ve always liked _you_ , Eva.” She looks up pleadingly. “I admire you _so_ much. You don’t let people get to you, even though I _know_ you hear what they say. You’re so dedicated.” She reaches up and tucks a strand of Eva’s hair behind her ear. “You’re the most incredible person I know.”

“Oh,” Eva says and she kisses Janie again, warm and full of meaning. When they part, Janie says dazedly, “ _Oh_ ,” and presses her hand over Eva’s heart, eyes wide. “Oh.”

*****

  
Janie _nails_ her long program.

No one except Eva can quite believe it; she skates like she’s on fire, like it’s the last performance she’ll ever do. She lands every single jump and even does _two_ triple axels. Her long program scores are high enough to launch her into first place, at least for the time being. She knows she did well, too; the moment she is off the ice, she is smiling so widely it seems like her face will split.

It definitely throws off Brianna, who flubs one jump and falls on another. She falls into second, leaving Eva and Stéphanie left to skate.

Eva does well, definitely one of the best skates she has had in her life. She lands her axel and her triple-triple combination, which normally would not be good enough to put her in front of Janie, but given how Eva did in the short program, it’s possible.

The scores put Eva ahead of Janie by only two points, insignificant by most standards. Stéphanie skates last and places first easily, to no one’s surprise. After the medal ceremony, they troop back to talk to the press again and, of course, Janie is asked how she bounced back so quickly.

“I got some good news,” she says softly, radiant and smiling. “A bronze isn’t ideal, but given how poorly I skated in the short program, I am more than happy with that.”

They’re crowded closer together than usual at the table, their legs hidden by the tablecloth. Janie’s hand lands on Eva’s thigh, her thumb rubbing up to the crease of Eva’s thigh. Eva grits her teeth and tries not to give away how turned on she is.

Stéphanie gives the two of them a knowing look, and then answers some questions about Worlds to distract the press from Janie and Eva. Eva answers her own questions mechanically, trying not to react to how Janie looks smug and totally beautiful, her hair loose around her face.

When they’re finished, Stéphanie leans in to Eva and says, “I am glad you took care of it.” She kisses Eva’s cheek and adds, “Many blessings.” She waves before she disappears upstairs, leaving Janie and Eva alone.

Janie looks over at Eva and shyly inquires, “Do you want to come up?”

“Definitely,” Eva replies, smiling almost against her will. Janie takes her hand, smiling widely in return, and takes her upstairs.

*****

  
When Eva wakes up the next morning, she smiles and strokes her hand down Janie’s bare back, toying with a strand of dark hair. Janie wakes slowly, and when she sees Eva, she smiles, wide and radiant.

“Я тебя люблю,” she says, and Eva doesn’t have to understand Russian to know what that means.

“Yeah,” Eva replies softly, “same to you.”

 

 

And now with a [coda](http://alex-boylove.livejournal.com/149748.html).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] by the time I'm dreaming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503288) by [exmanhater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater)




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